


Godmother-In-Law

by Totally_lucky



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Mafia References, Non-magical AU, Things We Don't Say Universe, an alternative ending, mother-in-law, who hates Gabriel but loves Adrien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 11:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10513233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_lucky/pseuds/Totally_lucky
Summary: For years Adrien and Marinette have been the best of friends, really close and in love with each other. For years they have been finding reasons to not take the next step despite wanting to be together, be it the fear of rejection, a lost moment or something else. However, one day Adrien's grandmother comes into town to visit her sweet little grandson...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, I was challenged to write a crack. Oblivious me thought I could do it so I accepted the challenge. One month later I realized two things - I cannot write crack but I do write some pretty interesting fluff with a dash of angst, sprinkled with some humor and romance with a few crack-ish elements sneaked in. This story takes place in my Things We Don't Say Universe and you can consider it as an alternative ending. Hope you'll enjoy!  
> Dedicated to a wonderful group of amazing Ladies with no chill of the Eye of the Tiger Bra Chat group. This is all your fault but I don't regret a thing.

## A Tiger Bra Story

“Mari, please,” Adrien begged as soon as the young woman opened her door. “You have to hide me! If you want to go to that fashion gala next month, please, hide me!” Adrien feverishly grabbed her shoulders, his pale face and begging eyes pleading for safety. For a moment Marinette even thought she saw him shaking… wait he was. Not a full-blown quivering but the grown 23-year-old man in front of her was definitely shivering.  

 

“What happened?” Marinette gawked at the visibly terrified man as she let him into her apartment.

 

“They are going to kill each other!” he mumbled, taking his shoes off in hurry and disappearing down the hallway and into her bedroom before confused Marinette could stop him.

 

“This time I am sure of it!” Adrien whined as he buried himself under a blanket and a pile of cushions on her bed. “You won't believe the shit I've been through in the last 48 hours, Mari!" he poked his head out from under the comforter. “I need a break. I need to hide. I _must_ disappear for a while!”

 

"Who are ‘they’?" The girl's brow rose up. She had never seen Adrien so frightened before. Not even when he thought he got rabies from his cat Plagg’s scratches and was dead sure he was doomed to die in two days. Where he got that idea from was beyond her imagination but once two days that Adrien spent in her loving care passed and he remained just as healthy and alive as before Marinette kicked his butt out of her apartment and told him to await her nursing bill in the mail.

 

“Grandmother and my dad,” Adrien whispered. “This time she doesn’t even bother holding back and he isn’t better. All of those passive aggressive remarks and accusations. Yesterday evening it stopped short of physical only cause Nathalie cleared her throat! I understand Grandmother doesn't like him but Father? Doesn’t he _care_ for his life?” Adrien paused for a second and lifted those big kitten eyes to look at Marinette. “They are going to kill each other and take me down with them,” he whispered. “Please, Mari. Please, don’t let my crazy family discover me. I don’t want to die.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Adrien,” Marinette crossed her arms. “I get your father can be intimidating but, really, how scary a grandmother can be? Get out of my bed—”

 

“I need cuddles,” Adrien interrupted putting those kitten eyes to a good use once again. This time in full force “I am seriously traumatized, Mari. You don’t know them. They are scary, scary people together. Terrifying and deadly. Please,” there was almost a whine slipping from those quivering lips. “A few minutes of cuddles to heal my soul is all I am asking for here. Please?”

 

Marinette’s first reaction was to drag Adrien out of her bed and stop this… whatever this was. But then she looked at him again. The sincere desperation in his eyes, the tremble of his lips, the pale-ish tone of his face… He couldn’t be _that_ good of an actor, now could he? And it’s not like she would be against the idea of spending a few minutes in Adrien’s arms either, however platonic it might be to him. Hopefully, he won't notice that the one who would really benefit the most from these cuddles would be her.

 

“Oh, alright,” she playfully groaned and slipped under the blanket herself wrapping her hands around Adrien. He quickly embraced her back and buried his nose in the crook of her neck.

 

“Thanks,” the blond whispered into her skin, setting it ablaze with the warmness of his breath. “You are the best friend one can have.”

 

“No problem,” Marinette responded quietly and closed her eyes.

 

The next few minutes were bliss and hell united. Marinette went rigid at the first touch but melted away as soon as the blond pulled her closer. It wasn’t the first time Adrien hugged her (they were “not shying away from physical touches” best friends for years after all) but every time he did so it was electrifying. The warmth of his body, the closeness she craved but couldn’t have, his lips and his breath so dangerously close to her bare skin… it all sent a powerful punch right into her heart pulling to the surface feelings she’d prefer to keep under wraps for now. It was getting harder and harder every time to keep herself in check but the time wasn’t right yet. One day she might be brave enough to risk it all, risk losing Adrien and their friendship over a chance to have her unrequited love returned and would confess. But that would be some day. For now, Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn’t there yet. For now, their close, friendly relationship was enough…

 

“I mlodnvefjyosndkudj…” Adrien barely breathed out cutting an overbearing but somehow comfortable silence in the room, his voice so quiet and muffled that Marinette couldn’t distinguish anything apart from an initial “I”.

 

“What did you say?” she whispered a question continuing to lightly stroke Adrien’s back to help him relax as well. For some reason even ten minutes later he remained just as tense, barely moving at all during that time. At least his breathing was now more or less even.

 

Instead of answering, Adrien’s arms tightened around her back as he shifted a bit his face diving closer to her neck. The moment Marinette felt his lips **_accidentally_** ( _yes accidentally because there is no way Adrien Agreste kissed her neck on purpose_ ) touched her skin her heart forgot its regular tempo and exploded. Marinette stilled, praying Adrien wouldn’t hear the treacherously loud beating in her chest and felt the blond’s breath hitch as well when he, probably, realized what just happened. The time and the world alike had frozen despite the flood of overwhelming emotions swamping Marinette’s heart, her mind, her very soul. She didn’t move and dreaded opening her eyes… Because once she did she’d have to see a disgusted look on the face of the man who stole her heart eight years ago.

 

Adrien moved first. He pulled away just enough to see Marinette’s face.

 

“Mari?” he whispered in a low, husky voice and nuzzled her cheek. Marinette panicked. She had never heard him talk in such a voice. She had never experienced such tenderness from him.

 

“Mari, please, look at me,” the blond who she was still embracing pleaded quietly and lightly stroked her cheek with his fingers now. Terrified, Marinette now felt even more paralyzed. Adrien had asked her to look at him but did he realize the weight of such an action at this moment? The instant she’d open her eyes she knew that everything would change. Would it be him apologizing and letting her know once more that they were friends and nothing more? Or would she dare to hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same?

 

“Marinette…”

 

With panic flooding her essence Marinette bit her lip as she finally found the power to make the step. Slowly she opened her eyes and almost shocked stared in disbelief at the man who held not only her heart but her very world at this very moment. To her surprise, he didn't look disgusted or offended. Quite the contrary, his half-lidded eyes lingered on hers with only warmth and love pouring out complemented by a small, hopeful smile on his lips. Marinette bit her lower lip harder as her heart sprinted into a chaotic rush again. That wasn’t an expression of someone regretting their mistake. Adrien… Adrien looked at her as if…

 

“You’ll be in my heart. Yes, you’ll be in my heart from this day on. Now and forever more…” suddenly ripped through the room a loud singing.

 

Adrien closed his eyes and exhaled in frustration.

 

“Don’t take it,” he pulled Marinette back to him and whispered. “ _Please_ , ignore it for once.”

 

“What if that’s an emergency?” Marinette murmured. “Mom wouldn’t call me in a middle of a day for nothing.”

 

Marinette felt it more than she heard it. A sigh of frustration and annoyance. A sigh of disappointment into her neck right before Adrien loosen his grip and fell back onto the sheets letting Marinette go. She quickly scrambled to her feet and ran to the living room more to get away then to actually take that call. At the age of 23, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a tough, independent woman. She could handle a lot of stuff coming her way. She dealt with problems most people would be broken by easily. The next iron lady one would say. Yeah, she could handle some tough stuff and do it with charm and grace. Unfortunately for her, adorably cute and devilishly attractive Adrien Agreste who had just kissed her neck (and seemed to not be regretting it) wasn’t one of those.

           

“Hello,” Marinette answered the phone with a shaking hand.

 

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?” sounded a familiar yet strange voice on the other side. Marinette frowned. The number displayed was her parent’s home number. Something must be wrong. _Very wrong_.

 

“Yes,” she tried to be calm. “Who is asking?”

 

“My name is Nathalie Sancoeur,” the voice replied. “I believe that Adrien Agreste is currently in your possession- ugh- I meant in your apartment?”

 

“A- Adrien? Ye—” Marinette stuttered caught a little bit off-guard and still too dazzled to think clearly.

 

“NOOOOOooooo!” Adrien cried out from the bedroom scrambling to his feet and running into the living room. He motioned feverishly and whispered: "I am _not_ here! _Not here_! You have _never_ seen me! In fact, you don't even **_know_** me!"

 

“Um-” Marinette wanted to revise her initial answer but was quickly interrupted.

 

“Good. Now could you, please, tell him that both of you are expected to a dinner today at 6pm at the mansion. Please, dress appropriately and don’t be late.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette replied nervously. “But I think you misunderstood me, Mme. Sancoeur. Adrien isn’t—“

 

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” the woman interceded again. “We both are aware that Adrien is currently with you so if you are going to cover up for him, at least don’t do it so amateurishly,” she paused for a minute but hearing no response from Marinette continued. “Now that that is cleared up, please, tell Adrien that either the two of you show up to the dinner tonight or his grandmother will be terribly upset and I doubt that he would like to upset Mme. Vizzini.”

 

 _Mme. Vizzini… Why did it sound so familiar_ Marinette though? Even stranger - why did it send a little shiver down her spine? The girl shook her head and tried to focus on the instructions Nathalie was currently giving her concerning what attire Mme. Vizzini accepted as appropriate. One look at Adrien, however, brought back before her eyes the unusually frightened state he came in. Marinette frowned. From what she could gather his father and his grandmother weren’t on the best terms. It may have even been an understatement because what must have had happened to make a grown man escape his house with his tail between his legs was beyond her. Would it be alright or even wise for her to intrude on them in such a sensitive situation, an extremely private moment for Adrien and his father, her employer? Marinette was pretty sure Gabriel would not appreciate it.

 

“Excuse me, Natalie?” she interrupted shyly. “Don’t you think it’ll be inappropriate and even rude for me to intrude on their family dinner? I am neither family nor a close friend of theirs.”

 

“A minute, please,” Nathalie said and muted her line. A few minutes later she came back with a strict and short answer.

 

“Mme. Vizzini says you either come or else,” Marinette arched her brows in a surprise as the woman’s tone became the coldest she had ever heard her. Somewhere in the background she scarcely heard Adrien curse. “And personally I would not recommend for you to find out what this ‘ _else_ ’ is, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” Nathalie added a bit softer. “I will see you at six. Have a good day.”

 

For the next two minutes Marinette was trying to understand _what_ had just happened as she listened to a silent line and stared ahead. Because it seemed to her that she just got threatened by Adrien’s grandmother who apparently had called from her parent’s house into coming to a dinner.

 

_What? How? Why?_

 

Her brain froze from the flood of questions following that. Once about two or three minutes had passed, failing to find an explanation, Marinette finally turned the phone off and shifted her eyes to Adrien. He nervously chewed on his lip, the paleness slowly creeping back onto his face, his frame sinking further into a couch with every passing second.

 

“Adrien?” her voice was slightly trembling. “Why did I just get an ‘or else’ from your grandmother?”

 

“Um…” The man actually had the decency to hide his eyes but not to give her the answer she needed right now.

 

“Okay, Agreste," Marinette was starting to feel a little bit pissed off. No matter how cute Adrien looked right now. A tiny, adorable kitten… _Focus!_ She closed her eyes and asked again: “Why is your grandmother threatening me, Adrien?”

 

“I don’t know,” the grown man squeaked from under one of the pillows. “As far as I know you don’t know each other so there are no reasons for her to dislike you.”

 

“Even if we _did_ know each other and even if she _did_ dislike me, that is _not_ the reason to threaten people,” Marinette frowned.

 

“I guess it’s just the way she is?” Adrien tried but miserably failed to smile. Something about this topic was making him nervous and Marinette didn’t like it. “She’s kind of used to bossing other people around and get them to obey her all the time.”

 

“Just the way she is?” the girl echoed raising an eyebrow. “And just _why_ is this grandmother of yours this way, Adrien?”

 

If it wasn’t for the weirdness of the situation Marinette would’ve really found the way the blond shrunk on himself- and tried to look anywhere but at her- extremely charming and adorable but right now more than anything else she wanted answers to satisfy her curiosity.

 

“Adrien?” she insisted a few minutes later as the words seemed to refuse to leave his mouth.

 

“Grandma- she’s not- she’s kind of- I mean she- she is runfdsfnjnfkjnkjaklljkjgkf….”

 

“What was that?” Marinette stepped closer and tugged away the pillow Adrien was clutching to his chest and that was severely obstructing his speech at the moment. She tossed it on the other side of the couch and crouching down in front of the boy looked him straight into the eyes awaiting his response.

 

“She runs the Italian mafia…?” Adrien muttered under his breath after losing a less than a minute-long staring contest.

 

The moment the words registered in Marinette’s mind she almost laughed but when Adrien looked away and bit his lower lip, nervously fidgeting with another pillow who dragged into his lap, an emerging smile escaped her face as fast as it had appeared.

 

“Please, tell me it’s a name of her restaurant?”

 

“Not… quite?”

 

“Of course not! How could I even _think_ so?” Marinette face palmed. “How dumb of me. It’s so obvious! Your family is in the _fashion_ business so it must be a boutique. A fashion boutique or a label, right?”

 

“Not exactly.”

 

“A hotel?”

 

“Nope,” he had the _audacity_ to actually giggle! Marinette was slowly starting to freak out.

 

“A car wash? A sightseeing tour operator? An airline? _A wine distribution company_?” she hopefully searched Adrien’s face for a confirmation but was met with a low chuckle. “Adrien! Be serious!” Marinette frowned. “It’s not a laughing matter! I might end up thinking that your grandmother is—“ she started to nervously bite on one of her nails, “—is actually a godfather of some sort…”

 

“Well—” Adrien sighed, this time more relieved than stressed, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips, “—father calls her Godmother-in-Law but yes—” he sat up straight the amusement fleeing his features at once and looked at Marinette, “—that’s exactly who she is, Mari. She runs one of the Italian mafia families in the full meaning of this word.”

 

“Your grandmother is an Italian Dona?” Marinette shrieked.

 

“They call her Capofamiglia Vizzini over there,” Adrien smiled sadly. “Sorry, I didn’t tell you, Mari but that’s not exactly something I’d like people to judge me by.”

 

“I don’t blame you,” Marinette kept staring at him in horror. “So your father is also…?”

 

“Oh gosh, _no_!” Adrien laughed. “No way father would even last there for a _week_ considering how much Grandmother hates his guts. He’s been on her hit list forever.”

 

“Why is he then still alive?” Marinette let the question slip before she could stop herself.

 

“I’ve been asking her every Christmas to move him to the end of her list?” Adrien offered, rubbing timidly the back of his neck. “And since I am her only grandchild, Grandmother likes me and usually does anything I ask for. He did come in pretty close a few times, though. When I was fourteen, he actually was at the top for a few days. I think, she spared him only because mom had just disappeared and him being gone would make me an orphan.”

 

“That was very nice of her,” Marinette couldn’t contain her chuckle, a sarcastic smirk playing on her lips. “She is a _very_ _considerate_ grandmother.”

 

“She isn’t, actually, that bad,” Adrien sighed. “She is the most affectionate person I’ve ever met. As a child I adored her. She spoiled me rotten and even now she always puts me first,” Adrien paused, his eyes filling with something warm yet sad. “She is a lot like mom used to be…”

 

The sadness changed into pain as Adrien seemed to freeze in his place. He rarely talked about his mother with anyone. All Marinette knew was that she was the most important person in his life and that losing her to the unknown was even harder than Adrien could express. He always kept quiet about it and no one dared to ask.

 

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” she kneeled down and wrapped him in a hug.

 

“Thanks,” Adrien barely breathed out. “But I’m alright. I have you guys now, right? ”

 

“Of course you do,” Marinette smiled into his shoulder. “You’ll always have me and Nino and Alya.”

 

“But now I _have_ to ask,” she pulled away a few moments later. “Are you a Mafioso prince of some kind?”

 

“Nooo,” Adrien laughed. “I am what they call a civilian. Grandmother made sure no one from my family would ever be involved. She says it isn’t worthwhile.”

 

“But her rivals still come after you when they need to pressure your grandmother or for revenge?” A feeling of dread started to rise up at the pit of Marinette’s stomach as the implications of having a Dona for a grandmother started to dawn on her. Until now she had never even suspected just how much danger Adrien was in every day simply by having been born to his mother.

 

“Not if they value their own life,” Adrien responded calmly. "I have a special mark that everyone who has ever been involved with the criminal world would recognize. So I am safe."

 

“And what would that be?” Marinette cocked her head to the side. Despite the danger, this whole situation also raised a few rather interesting questions. All those movies she saw as a child were always so far away, seemed so unreal. But now, _now_ it all came to life dragging an unquenchable curiosity along. Somehow terrifying but yet entrancing. Is there a secret handshake? A secret lair? A ridiculous password to get in an exclusive underground club?

 

“A tattoo,” Adrien broke the train of her thoughts. “A very weird one but very distinguishable, which I guess was the point because no one in their right mind would permanently inscribe that on his own body.”

 

“A tattoo?” Marinette echoed curiously. “But you don’t have any tattoos. I’ve seen you in your swimming shorts. Unless…" her eyes wandered to his crotch area as her cheeks instantly flamed scarlet.

 

“Ahahaha,” Adrien exploded. “No,” he added a moment later. “Nothing so extreme. Here—“ he stood up, “—I’ll show you,” and unbuckled his pants.

 

As if burned Marinette backed away and in astonishment watched as Adrien pulled his pants down. Not that she hadn’t seen his bare legs before but such a bold move definitely threw the girl of her guard.

 

“There,” Adrien pointed to the top of his right inner thigh. Just below his black, tight fitting boxer briefs. Marinette blinked a few times to make sure she saw everything correctly because…

 

“A tiger bra on fire?” she giggled. “Your grandmother tattooed you with a flaming tiger bra?”

 

“Hey!” Adrien pouted and pulled his jeans back on. “I was small and didn’t really have a choice.”

 

“A- ti- tiger a br- bra on f-fire,” Marinette couldn’t stop laughing. “Why?”

 

“Let’s just say she has a passion for fashion,” Adrien deadpanned. “As for _why_ it’s on fire, you’ll have a chance to ask her that today in person. _I_ have no idea,” he poked out a tongue and Marinette froze. Shit! She totally forgot. She had a date with an Italian Dona today.

 

“Ugh,” she bit her lip trying to control a suddenly rising panic. “What does she do exactly?”

 

_Great! The perfect way to relax is to ask what crimes does his grandmother commit!_

 

“She smuggles people.”

 

Stupefied, Marinette couldn't even blink as she stared at the man in front of her. She smuggles people? She invited Marinette for… _evaluation to see if she is a fitting example…_

“Oh no, not like _that_ ,” Adrien hurried to explain realizing just what exactly could have been going through Marinette's mind at the moment. “She smuggles refugees into other countries from war zones.”

 

“That’s her business?” Marinette had a hard time believing.

 

“Yup. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know all the details,” Adrien flopped back on the couch. “Grandmother comes from a family with loads of old money, legally earned might I add, so it’s not like she needs anything. They were nobility of some kind back in the days. Landowners and investors. How or why she got caught up with the mafia is still a mystery to me but the fact that her business consists mainly of helping refugees and something in a jewelry branch makes me feel a bit easier.”

 

“But isn’t a point of being in a mafia to earn money? What can she earn for helping poor to get to a better place?”

 

“As far as I know she doesn’t do it for free,” Adrien shrugged. “And most people are willing to pay to escape the war. Hey,” he sat up and looked into Marinette’s eyes. “I hope you understand that if I like my grandmother it doesn’t mean I support what she is doing. You know that, right? In this situation I’m just glad she isn’t walking around shooting innocent people on a whim.”

 

“Then why is your dad on her hit list?” Marinette implored.

 

“Why?” Adrien smirked. “Didn’t you _know_ that every self-respecting Donna has to have a hit list? But whether she actually _acts_ upon it is a different question altogether."

 

“How can you talk about things like that so calmly?” Marinette frowned. Murderer or not, being in a mafia guaranteed some shady business. Especially if you are at the top.

 

“I don’t know,” Adrien shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been living with this ever since I was born so I kind of got used to it. There is _nothing_ normal about my life, Mari,” he sighed. “My father is a world famous designer who barely has time for me. My mother is known for disappearing without a trace stirring all kinds of nasty controversies as a result. I’ve been in public eyes ever since I could sit up straight on my own. Privacy is not even in my vocabulary; it’s such a foreign concept to me. A Mafioso grandmother is just another factor of life. Nothing too unusual.”

 

For the first time ever Marinette realized just how complicated and sad Adrien’s life was. She thought it was bad for him before? She never considered the _whole_ picture. And there she was thinking that she actually loved this man. The only thing the girl wanted to do right now was to hug and never let him go, to finally give Adrien all the love and support he deserved. And if that meant meeting his grandmother and stand by his side so he could rely on someone in this crazy life of his, then a dinner with an Italian Dona it is.

 

“Do you know at least why does she want to see me?”

 

“I honestly have no idea,” Adrien looked at the watch and paled. “But we’d better hurry. It’s five already.”

 

Before Marinette could even blink Adrien caught her hand and rushed her into the bedroom. In confusion she watched as the model rummaged through her closet clearly trying to find something.

 

“Adrien, I can dress myself just fine,” Marinette interrupted his feverish search. “I am a successful designer after all.”

 

“I would never even try to doubt that,” he responded not sparing her even a glance. “But right now I am the one who knows my grandmother’s tastes so I’ll also be the one to dress you. We cannot afford her to not like you.”

 

“Must she like me?” Marinette asked playfully cocking her head to a side.

 

“Let’s just say if she isn’t a vicious, blood-thirsty monster—” Adrien stopped but still didn’t turn around to look at Marinette, “—it doesn’t _mean_ you want her to dislike you. Believe me, there are _other_ ways to make one miserable,” he added and dove into her special occasions wear. “Otherwise, I’d be home right now sipping wine and enjoying a conversation with my relatives.”

 

“Alright,” Marinette yielded. “I guess, I am all yours to dress then. Teach me your ways, oh great taste-knowing Master?” she teased at the end.

 

“If you could apply your makeup meanwhile—” Adrien suggested hiding away his blushing cheeks. “—that’ll be great. Nothing too extravagant. As natural as can be but still classy.”

 

“Ok,” Marinette responded and disappeared into her washroom. About ten-fifteen minutes later she emerged with her best face forward only to find her room empty and a red dress with black accents she created last year on the bed. “Femme fatale incarnated” - Adrien once said. Marinette loved this dress but rarely wore it - a little bit too much for every day and not enough special occasions in her life. Meeting Adrien’s Mafioso grandmother would probably be a good opportunity to let it see the world. Taking an advantage of being alone, Marinette quickly slipped the dress on.

 

“Adrien?” she called. “I’m ready.”

 

“Good,” he appeared out of nowhere and gently pushed her back into the bedroom and onto the bed. “Stay still, Mari. I’ll try to do it as fast as possible but still careful. Please, tell me if it hurts.”

 

Where did he pull the hairbrush from, Marinette didn’t even notice but as soon as the first strokes hit her hair she melted. The last person who did it for her was her mama a long time ago. On the days she was just a little bit extra worried or nervous it always felt so nice, so peaceful, so calm. Marinette closed her eyes and relaxed. This was what she needed right now.

 

“Done,” Adrien proclaimed what seemed just a moment later. “Let’s keep it down. It’s really pretty this way. Now we must hurry and then maybe we’ll make it on time.”

 

Slipping on her black heels and grabbing her pouch, Marinette quickly followed Adrien downstairs to his car. The ride to the mansion consisted mostly of him instructing the girl on all ins and outs of his grandmother’s personality. “Never go directly against her”, “You may disagree sometimes but only if that’s something really important to you _and_ she is indifferent on the issue”, “Respect above all”, “She loves her etiquette”, “Don’t ask too personal questions”, “Don’t mention my maman”, “Don’t openly side with father”, etc. “Do not lie under any circumstances” was repeated and stressed a few times and if her hearing wasn’t malfunctioning there was even a phrase that went somewhat like – “She’s like a walking, breathing lie-detector, my grandmother, and she doesn’t forgive lies”.

 

As their car rolled down the streets, with each passing minute, with each word of warning Marinette’s panic increased at an alarming rate. A few years back she was _terrified_ to meet Gabriel Agreste considering his tyrannical reputation and her hidden feelings for Adrien. She couldn’t sleep or eat for three days prior, too worried that he would think her a fraud designer wannabe or worse - discover that she was in love with his son. How was she supposed to feel about meeting his Capofamiglia grandmother with what looked like an eccentric character and quite particular likes out of the blue? As visibly anxious Adrien was pressing that gas pedal, Marinette was slowly dying inside and by the time they parked at the front door of the mansion the girl was in a full freaking out mode again.

 

She refused to exit the car. “I can’t do it.”

 

“Of course, you can.” Adrien gently pulled her out. “Come on, Mari, everything will be alright. You are amazing and look gorgeous. Grandmother will love you.”

 

“I can’t go.” She refused to make a step. “I can’t, Adrien. What if I trip, what if I stutter, what if I say the wrong thing, what if I spill something on her-“

 

“You’ll do fine, Marinette,” Adrien interrupted. “Just stop thinking about it so much and you’ll be fine.”

 

“I can’t just stop thinking about it,” she angrily lamented. “You don’t understand, Adrien! It’s not just something that can be controlled-“

 

Too busy losing it and trying to find a legitimate excuse to leave at the same time Marinette completely missed an uncertain expression on Adrien’s face that in a flash changed into something undisputable and bold. Before she could jump back into that car or run away on feet, Adrien pulled her gently closer and silenced her words with his lips.

 

Marinette froze.

 

Her wide-opened eyes didn’t see anything. Her ears suddenly stopped conveying the sounds to her brain or, maybe, it was her mind that refused to accept anything but silence. The smell… Oh gosh! The only thing she could smell right now was the mind-blowing sent of Adrien’s cologne and his exposed skin being close. Slightly sweaty from worry but yet so sensual and alluring. Her body trembled as she was slowly melting into the strong hold of the man in front of her.

 

Her eyelids fluttered closed.

 

Immediately Adrien deepened the kiss and Marinette was able to finally come out of her dazzle enough to respond. His arms tightened around her waist just for a moment before suddenly he pulled away.

 

“Think about this,” he whispered barely audible just bare millimeters away from her lips and let Marinette go taking one of her hands in his instead.

 

“We’d better go in,” Adrien said clearing his throat. “Don’t worry, Marinette. I won’t let anything happen to you. Can you trust me on this?”

 

If she could talk, Marinette would’ve responded but it seemed her speech together with all the fears had gone out of the door. Stunned, bursting with sudden happiness, Marinette simply nodded. Smiling softly, Adrien kissed the back of her palm and kept it safely in his own as he led the way.

 

“You actually made it on time,” Gabriel raised his eyebrow opening the door.

 

“Good evening, Father,” Adrien greeted the man not surprised in the slightest that the latter was the one opening the door instead of Nathalie or Gorilla. “I assume Grandmother is in the dining room?”

 

“Yes,” Gabriel straightened up and nodded to Marinette: “Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” before going back to his son: “She’s been expecting you.”

 

“Good evening, M. Agreste,” the girl squeaked finding her voice at last. The man wordlessly nodded and walked away.

 

“You’ll be alright,” Adrien turned to Marinette. “Just be yourself.”

 

“Ok,” she whispered back, her eyes glancing fleetingly over the lips that just made her dream of eight years come true.  

 

“Come hanno potuto mancare di rispetto così tanto?” were the first words Marinette heard coming into the room. A dominant, stern yet somehow soft voice.

 

The first thing she noticed, however, was red. A head crowned by fiery red hair caught her eyes before meeting a pair of emerald-green, just like Adrien’s eyes. Full of confidence and curiosity eyes as their owner sitting in a chair at the head of the table looked at Marinette.

 

“Good evening, Grandmother.” Pulling Marinette close, Adrien addressed a younger looking than expected woman in a tight, black leather pants and a loose white blouse tied by a matching sash belt. “You wanted to see us?”

 

A small smirk appeared on Mme. Vizzini’s lips when Marinette finally recognized her.

 

The woman who just yesterday visited her parent’s bakery and was shamelessly flirting with her father in front of her mother.

 

The Lady who was then splashed all over her outfit with frosting when Tom Dupain squeezed his tube a little bit too hard almost choking on one of her cheesiest pickup one-liners.

 

The Madame whom Sabine quickly hurried upstairs to Marinette’s old room which she now used as her studio and asked her daughter, who had a habit of helping her parents out in the shop on Saturdays, to help this poor unfortunate soul while she would chasten her husband for his behavior.

 

The Missus whom Marinette dressed in one of her old creations that she made for a contest a few years back – a pair of tight, black leather pants and a loose white blouse topped with a matching leather sash belt made there and then from her scraps – only because they were the only things that fitted her in that room.

 

 _A Mafioso Donna_ who actually rocked that outfit in her mid 70s better than any 20 years old ever could.

 

 _An Italian Capofamiglia_ who noticing a picture of her and Adrien still pinned to the wall innocently asked if Marinette was an acquaintance of an Agreste supermodel and hearing her answer tried her hardest to pull out as much as possible out of Marinette on what she thought about Adrien.

 

A grandmother who continued to mumble under her breath: “Perfetto, semplicemente perfetto” the more time she spent with Marinette asking her not so subtly for a tea, some dessert and a few rather personal questions.

 

By the time this character had left her room Marinette felt like she had just disclosed all of her life with all of her secrets and didn’t even noticed or thought of refusing to do so; apart from her crush on Adrien, of course, but judging from the looks Mme. Vizzini was giving her _that_ was not a secret to her either.

 

“Finally.” She rose up revealing her slim and fit figure. One would never pin her for a grandmother. A stunning woman in her late 30s. At most. “Adrien, mio tesoro, why would you make me wait and try to hide away this bellissima?”

 

“Grandmother,” Adrien put a protective hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “This is my good friend Marinette.”

 

“Good evening, Mme. Vizzini,” the girl mumbled too astonished to talk clearly.

 

“Cara mia,” Mme. Vizzini came closer and gently pulled Marinette out of Adrien’s grip but not before giving him the look for he seemed to hesitate to let go, gripping her shoulders harder.

 

“It’s so lovely to see you again,” the older woman smiled and kissed both of Marinette’s cheeks. “Come, sit by my side, bella, and do call me Marcella. I’m not that old yet,” she added and walked Marinette away from the comfortable bubble of Adrien’s closeness much to his disappointment.

 

“Nathalie, can you tell the kitchen to serve the dinner, please,” the older woman asked with a much softer voice than Gabriel had ever let himself to get away with towards his secretary. The latter nodded and quickly left the room.

 

“So, Marinette,” Mme. Vizzini started. “I bet you didn’t expect to see me here?”

 

“No. Not at all,” the girl replied politely.

 

“Why?” the older woman cocked her head to a side. “Am I not good enough to be a grandmother of the _hottest_ male model around?”

 

“ _Nonnina_ ,” Adrien groaned.

 

“Oh no, no,” the girl blushed trying to cut in front of the scolding that was surely coming Adrien’s way. _Do not make troubles for Adrien!_ “ You just don’t look like a grandmother, Madame. Maybe a mother but not a grandmother. That’s all.”

 

“Adrien,” the woman declared grinning widely. “I like her. We should keep her.”

 

“Nonnina, please, can you just—" the blonde sat down beside Marinette and sighed in exasperation, “—stop embarrassing me in front of my friends? I’ve worked too hard to trick Marinette into thinking that having me as a friend may actually not be such a bad idea ever since I started school for you to scare her away now.”

 

“Since school days, you say,” Mme. Vizzini echoed, a sly little smile slowly splitting her lips as she took Marinette’s hands in her own. “Bellissima, I bet you have a ton of funny stories about this dear grandson of mine. He is a darling but I also know how socially awkward he can be. Do tell me.”

 

“I might have a few,” Marinette said cautiously glancing over at Adrien. He did tell her to do what his grandmother wanted her to do.

 

“Perfetto!” Marcella gushed. “Do tell.” She let Marinette’s hands go and relaxed back into her chair taking her glass of wine. “In exchange,” she suddenly added with a satisfied twinkle in her eyes. “I’ll tell you a few from his early years, including—“ she grinned, “—the ones featuring him hiding chocolates in his diapers from his mother and applying makeup to his father’s face in his sleep to make him—” she glanced Gabriel’s way, “— _more fun_.”

 

“Nonna, _please_ ,” Adrien interfered again. This was going to be a long evening for him he figured already but maybe he could spare himself the naked baby photos reveal that was inevitably coming _._ So cliché and predictable yet for some reason mothers and their relatives loved to make you want to disappear from the face of the world in front of the girl you like. “Do not embarrass me,” he pleaded.

 

“Mio tesoro,” Mme. Vizzini toasted her glass to him. “Believe me, _nothing_ I will say or show could sway this sweet little bella away. If anything—" she winked at him, "—she'll find you even more adorable. Isn't right, Marinette?"

 

“Um- I- th-thi-nk—I, yes?” Marinette felt her face burn.  

 

“Perfetto,” the woman smiled. “Shall we start then?”

 

The rest of the dinner went pretty smoothly. Marinette shared a few funny stories of their youth. Adrien decided to join in with his own stories of Marinette’s mishaps to get even. The grandmother didn’t lose a chance to tell a few of her own. Thankfully, the photos stayed hidden. They laughed, they teased, they had fun. By the end of the evening Marinette could barely believe that this sweet and extremely nice lady had anything to do with the criminal world. She didn’t look the part, she didn’t sound the part, she didn’t feel the part… that is until Gabriel Agreste decided to say his first words of the evening. All he did was to comment on Adrien’s success. The coldness and harshness of Mme. Vizzini’s stare in response could rival that of steel. The glare she sent his way was sure to easily slice diamonds. No wonder the man decided to spend his evening in silence until that point. If that was the way the two of them interacted Marinette could now perfectly understand why Adrien ran away earlier in the day. With the two of them Marcella Vizzini was a sweet, loving grandmother. With Gabriel Agreste she was a cold-blooded Capofamiglia. Just for a split moment Marinette wondered _why_ but quickly decided that it was an _extremely_ bad idea to explore further.

 

“So, I know that you designing, mia tesoro,” Mme. Vizzini put her fork away when the last of her dessert was finished. “Do you have any sketches on you?”

 

“Um,” Marinette glanced over at her employer who suddenly was extremely interested in their conversation and was curiously watching her.

 

“And I mean your own, Marinette,” the older woman added catching her uneasiness. “Not the ones you do for work.”

 

“No. I am sorry,” Marinette answered. “I don’t usually carry my portfolio with me.”

 

“How about this dress?” the woman pointed to Marinette’s ensemble. “Did you design it yourself?”

 

“Yes, she did,” Adrien answered proudly instead of Marinette. He knew his grandmother would like this dress or he would’ve not spent ten minutes trying to unearth it in Marinette’s closet. She really did have a passion for fashion, this grandmother of his.

 

He smiled but as soon as his grandmother took her eyes off him his face quickly fell. As the evening was coming to its end, other things seemed to be getting a stronger grip his mind and keeping a happy façade was getting harder and harder. First and most important of all - his grandmother seemed to like Marinette. That’s a win. Second and the one that seemed to keep him jittery all evening - he kissed Marinette. A kiss that could never be classified as the one between friends and something told him he’d need to explain himself pretty soon. _That_ was more difficult to do than it seemed to be because if admitting his feeling for her without a threat of being rejected on the spot was a viable option, Adrien would've done it a long time ago. But seeing that she rejected _every_ man who dared to express his love and tend to avoid them afterward made him a little more than terrified of even trying.

 

“If you were to design it for me, mia bella,” his grandmother leaned forward. “How would you do it?”

 

“Hm,” Marinette bit her lower lip, an annoying habit she had when the creative process was rolling. “For once—” she elaborated, “—I’ll change the color to a deep royal blue and would make it more form fitting below the waist. I think it’ll work better for you than a full skirt I did for myself.”

 

“That’s an intriguing idea,” the older woman paused. “ _Who_ should I give this job to?” she murmured under her breath before turning to Gabriel. “Pencil and a sheet of paper.”

 

“Nathalie—“

 

“I didn’t ask Natalie to get it, Gabriel," the Italian Donna-in-law glared his way. “I asked _you_.”

 

“But Nathalie is my secretary—” Gabriel surprisingly tried to show his character for the first time for the evening. Adrien silently groaned. _Here we go again._ He only hoped Marinette would still like him after experiencing his relatives up close.

 

“I can’t take it anymore,” Marcella suddenly seethed through her teeth. “She is also _my_ Capodecina, Gabriel,” her voice was filled with rage and annoyance. “ _How_ do you think I know your every move? _How_ do you think you stay safe here and are not bothered by my enemies? She is here on _my_ commands and while I am present she will listen to _me_ , not you!”

 

The woman stopped for a minute and closing her eyes pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation as deadly silence descended on the room.

 

“I _can’t_ believe you haven’t figured it out by now,” she grumbled. “It’s been years and you still didn’t’ notice. Unbelievable! Lillian would’ve known right away but then I am not surprised in the least.”

 

“How was I supposed to know?” Gabriel resented. “Unlike _someone_ I don’t keep the tabs on all of your employees.”

 

“Nathalie, explain,” Marcella sighed tiredly, clearly having had enough of her son-in-law in the last few days. “I have no patience for his stupidity.”

 

“Every member of the Tiger Bra—” Nathalie started in that monotonous tone she usually adopted, “—has two identifying marks. First,” she suddenly lifted her blouse together with her jacket and turned around. “A family tattoo.” There was a huge, extravagant tattoo of a tiger on her right lower back. _Just a regular tiger,_ Marinette noticed. Seemed, the weirder version was kept exclusively for blood relatives of the Donna. “Second,” Nathalie continued, putting her clothes back in place. “In honor of Madame’s red hair, every member above soldier’s rank dyes a strip of his hair red,” she pointed at her own on a side of her bangs. “That’s how Mme. Lillian would’ve known right away.”

 

Gabriel swore and turned away.

 

“Language, Gabriel,” his mother-in-law warned. “Think of the children,” she smiled towards two shocked by the revelations younger adults in the room. “See how uncomfortable they are? Better bring Marinette a sheet of paper and a pencil.”

 

“Oh,” Marinette suddenly spoke coming out of her stupor. “I can use one of those,” she pointed to a few sheets of paper on a clipboard Nathalie was holding. “And I have a pencil in my pouch,” she quickly fished the utensil out and smiled shyly.

 

“Alright,” Mme. Vizzini nodded clearly satisfied with the girl's problem-solving skills and just a minute later she was entrancingly observing as Marinette’s hands glided across the page drawing the most elegant dress she’d seen in a while.

 

“And this would be embellished by these accents right here," the girl wrote the last remarks five minutes later. "There," she smiled to herself and passed the sketch to a woman beside her.

 

“Looks impressive,” the latter raised a brow. “Perfetto!” she exclaimed a moment later and passed the sheet to Gabriel. “My birthday is in a month. I’d like to receive this dress.”

 

“You want a dress made by _me_?” Gabriel’s eyes bugged out because ever since he wedded her runaway daughter and made her happy there were quite a few issues they disagree on. Some they were able to resolve for Lillian’s and Adrien’s sakes but others were still upholding a strong wall of hatred between them. Fashion and their personal tastes were the major ones so a dress from Gabriel would be at the best just passed on to someone else, at worst, be used as a floor cleaning rug.

 

“I want a dress designed by the _future Mme. Agreste_ ,” Marcella smiled at stunned Marinette. “Right, bellissima?”

 

“Wait, _what_???” Adrien almost choked on the air shaking his head feverishly to get a grip. _Did he hear it right?_

 

_“The future Mme. Agreste?”_

 

“Well, of course, mio tesoro,” the woman answered. “This family had long been lacking a young, pretty woman in it and, I think—” she looked fondly at the girl in question, “—Marinette would do splendidly in that position, won’t you agree, Adrien?”

 

“ _No_!” the blond protested feverishly clenching his fists hard. “This family lacks nothing and even if we did you can’t marry off Mari! She is still too young. She is only 23!”

 

“Just the right age in my opinion,” his grandmother scolded lightly. “Gotta leave the time for having those babies while you are still young and strong, right, Adrien?”

 

“ _Nonna_!” Adrien stood up his face red and angry. “That’s ridiculous and just… just _gross_! Father would _never_ agree to that, won’t you Father!”

 

He looked at Gabriel his eyes full of anger yet overflowing with desperation, begging him to disagree, _for once_ to stand up to Marcella Vizzini where it _really_ mattered.

 

“I—” Gabriel opened his mouth but shrinking away under another murderous glare of his missing wife’s mother concluded with: “—think your grandmother is right. Marinette is a perfect candidate for this role, babies and all.”

 

“Are you both _kidding_ me?” Adrien growled starting to lose control. This wasn’t happening! He promised to _protect_ Marinette when he brought her here. He promised to keep her safe, not… He couldn’t even comprehend the thought of what his grandmother was suggesting. “Marinette should decide for herself who she wants to marry. You _can’t_ force her!”

 

“Nonsense!” his grandma laughed. "I am sure Marinette wouldn't mind becoming the next Mme. Agreste. Would you, mia cara ragazza?”

 

In a dead silence of the tension all eyes were locked on the girl who feverishly blushing was sitting in a stupefied trance with one thought drumming in her head.

 

_Mme. Agreste. Marry Adrien. Become Mme. Agreste and marry Adrien. Mme. Agreste… Adrien!!! Marry my Adrien!_

 

“Mari, tell them they can’t do this to you,” Adrien put a hand on her shoulder. “That’s an absurd idea. You have a right to choose your own husband.”

 

"Marinette," his grandma cooed in the sweetest voice he’d ever heard her use. “We both know you _want_ this. Wasn’t it your dream ever since you were 15? Don’t be shy and just tell us the _truth_.”

 

 _Whatever you do just don’t lie to her!_ Adrien’s warning popped into Marinette’s mind right as she was contemplating on how to shy away and refuse to admit the obvious because it seemed that Adrien didn’t really want her to become the next Mme. Agreste.

 

 _She’s like a living, breathing lie detector!_ Marinette signed and bit her lip. Maybe Adrien would understand and forgive her?

 

 _Let’s just say if she isn’t a vicious, blood-thirsty monster it doesn’t mean you want her to dislike you._ Marinette swallowed uneasily remembering the harshness and coldness that Adrien’s grandmother treated his father with. Adrien would understand. It’s not like they would have to get married anyway. She’d just tell him she lied to keep his grandmother happy. He, after all, wasn’t a living, breathing lie detector himself.

 

Plus she would be a fool to risk being on the wrong side with a Donna for a stupid lie. She did want to marry Adrien ever since she was 15.

 

“I wouldn’t mind,” she barely whispered.

 

In a moment Adrien felt his world hit by a meteor, burn and crumble to pieces as he stared in horror at the girl he loved more than life itself.

 

His body went limp as he slowly dropped back down into his chair shocked and confused trying his best to understand _why_ on Earth would Marinette want to marry his _father_?

 

And _why_ did she look so happy and all dreamy about the perspective to be Mme. Gabriel Agreste right now? Was she blushing?

 

“I knew you admired my dad a lot,” his voice was shaking with heartbreak. “But I didn’t realize you liked him this much.” He paused for a moment and looked straight at Marinette. “Do you really want to see him _that_ often and know _that_ much about him?” he almost sobbed.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Adrien,” the older woman interjected before Marinette was able to respond. “Of course Marinette would see your father a lot more if she is to be Mme. Agreste. And why are you so riled up, mio patatino? Shouldn’t you be happy? Let’s celebrate,” she raised her glass to him.

 

Adrien clenched his fists as his face went crimson with fury. No way! _Why_ would he be happy? _Why_ would he be celebrating his grandmother helping his father to steal away the girl of his dreams? She didn’t even like him! _Why_ on Earth was grandmother trying to give his father a new wife? And not just someone but his sweet, kind, beautiful, amazing Marinette. _Why_ would he be glad that Marinette herself looked so happy about it? It shouldn’t be like that! He wouldn’t allow this!

 

Adrien cringed. First, his father took away his freedom by keeping him locked up in the mansion for years. Then he took away his mom! Yes, you heard him right! The real reason, as Adrien suspected for years now, for her disappearance was because she simply had had enough of those two and their arguments. Mom didn't leave! She escaped them both! His father and her own mother! Even more, Gabriel had basically chosen a career path for Adrien not even bothering to ask if the blond wanted to be a model or have anything to do with “Gabriel”. Father controlled so far most of his life. And now Marinette?

 

The knuckles of Adrien’s fingers went white from the pressure he was tightening his fists with as he struggled to regain control. The only person Adrien loved more than himself. The only one who made him happy! Marinette was his and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t fight for her! Even if he had to go against his grandmother and his father. That old man took all the joy from his life! He wouldn’t be taking his not-quite-yet-girlfriend too! Adrien would not, _could not_ allow this to happen!

 

“I won’t allow you to do this, Grandmother,” he gave his relative a similarly cold glare she sent his father’s way not long ago. “Marinette deserves better. The very least, she deserves someone who would love her. Father—“ he motioned to a man across the table,”—father feels nothing for Marinette. I’ve been in love with her for years. You _can’t_ just take her away from me on a whim. And if you really want to marry her off and give her a chance in happiness, am I not a much better choice than my father? I am younger and healthier. I look better and not some cold, emotionless, stuck up overlord! If you like Marinette at least a little you should realize that she’d be much happier with me, not him! She should be marrying _me_ , not my father!”

 

…

 

The faint, distant sounds of passing cars were persistently trying to cut through the dead silence that drowned the room. Neither Mme. Vizzini nor any of the present around the table moved, staring at each other in a mix of shock and amusement, depending in which eyes you’d look. Marinette just wanted to either die and thus escape this craziness or for the Earth to swallow her whole because, the obvious misunderstanding involving her employer aside, it seemed to her that Adrien had just demanded from his grandmother to marry Marinette off to him.

 

“Oh, mio tesorino,” broke the tension with a snarky voice Mme. Vizzini. “Who’d you think I meant to marry this bellissima to?”

 

“My father?” Adrien mumbled just as the realization of his mistake started to dawn on him. _Stupid Adrien!_ Mme. Agreste did not automatically mean Mme. Gabriel Agreste anymore. He was so used to his mother bearing this title and hadn’t spent nearly enough time fantasizing about what his own future wife would be called that the fact that the girl he would marry would bear the same title had easily slipped his mind. An explosive laugh of his grandmother and Marinette’s furiously blushing face clearly proved him wrong.

 

“I’m sorry,” he quietly apologized and sat down. “It seems I misunderstood and overreacted.”

 

"You did _not_ inherit this level of obliviousness from me or your mother, caro mio,” Mme. Vizzini proclaimed when she gathered herself back together and wiped away the tears sprinkling her eyes. “That is clearly another of your father’s faults. Nathalie,” she turned to a still chuckling secretary. “Add this to the list of his liabilities.”

 

“Of course, Madame,” retorted Nathalie and quickly wrote something down.

 

“And put it right under ‘Gave my daughter a horrible sense of fashion’ point since that is a life altering error,” she added and glanced over at Gabriel who was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “We might need to move him a few spaces up on the list this year for that.”

 

“Nonna, please,” Adrien pleaded trying to hide away his embarrassment. “Can we just move on and forget this ever happened?”

 

“Of course, tesoro. Anything you want,” the older woman agreed smiling warmly at her grandson, her little sunshine boy she vowed to protect and make happy as soon as he was born, renewing her vow once again when his mother disappeared.

 

“Nathalie,” she addressed her faithful, always awaiting instructions assistant. “The rings, please.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Adrien frowned in confusion after his father’s secretary laid down five identical, black velvet boxes in front of Marinette, all containing a different, gorgeous in its own engagement ring. “You are not serious about it, Grandmother? You can’t be.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she raised an eyebrow. “You had just admitted yourself that you are in love with this cara bellissima and wouldn’t mind marrying her. Judging by her own words neither would she,” the woman looked at the blushing Marinette. “I fail to see the problem.”

 

“But it shouldn’t be like this,” Adrien protested. “I am sure Marinette would want a proper proposal and a love confession.”

 

“I’m sure she would,” Mme. Vizzini agreed. “But _you_ , mio tesorino, had a few years to do that and you haven’t done anything, have you? Seeing this all, I am afraid, I must interfere for her biological clock is ticking and soon Marinette would want a family and kids and if you won’t bulge, we might lose her to some other random guy. You wouldn’t _want_ me to dirty my hands with someone else’s health or life, now would you?”

 

“What ring would you like, dear,” she turned back to Marinette letting Adrien know that any further arguments would be fruitless.

_Just do whatever she tells you,_ remembered Marinette and barely glancing over Adrien directed her sight back to the rings.

 

The choice was clear to her right away. A beautiful princess-cut pink diamond ring on a white gold band encrusted with smaller stones screamed her name the loudest. Marinette shyly pointed out the ring and observed in awe as Adrien’s grandmother passed it to Adrien and told him to put it on her finger. With almost an apologetic expression he obeyed pausing just a little as he slid it on. 

 

“Good,” the woman continued and pulled out her midnight-themed planner. “Now, would you prefer January 10th, April 12th, April 27th, June 07th, July 12th or September 15th?

 

“September is the closest one, but what it’s for?” Adrien inquired.

 

“September it is then,” Mme. Vizzini confirmed and nodded to Nathalie before answering the question. “For your wedding, of course, mio tesorino.”

 

“In a month?” Marinette shrieked in surprise. This was a dream come true, not how she’d imagined it but the end result was still the same. However, even for a dream it was happening just way too quickly.

 

"A month and six days to be exact," Nathalie responded. "Taking into considerations that some of the work is already done that should be more than enough."

 

“What do you mean some of the work is _already_ done?” Adrien blurted. Somewhere in a corner Gabriel quietly groaned and mentally face palmed. Was Adrien _really_ surprised? This was a woman who could easily beat him out in controlling people. Yes, she wasn’t violent and bloodthirsty but she was a manipulator out of this dimension and could effortlessly scare anyone out of his living daylights with her glare only. If others sometimes questioned how she was able to lead one of the Italia’s criminal families with minimal brutal force, for him it was never a mystery. She used her innate, feminine talents. Really, Adrien should be just thankful she chose a girl he actually liked and informed him before the wedding. Inviting him to his own marriage ceremony saying that he’ll be just attending a party was something of a possibility with Marcella Vizzini in charge.

 

“Nathalie.”

 

“We’ve booked three of the best-suited venues for each of the dates mentioned so all you had to do was to pick a date and a venue. Bakers, florists, interior designers and other necessary businesses all had been contacted and awaiting on a standby awaiting the bride and the groom to come by and make their choices. A month is quite enough time to make a dress and a suit considering M. Agreste’s company. All the relatives on both sides will be courier-delivered their invitations as soon as they’ll get off the press in approximately—“ she glanced at her tablet, “—three hours. And it’s happening so late _only_ because you haven’t chosen a date until just two minutes ago-”

 

“I think they got the idea,” Mme. Vizzini interrupted her assistant having the best time observing how Adrien’s and Marinette’s jaws were slowly dropping down and their eyes widening.

 

“Nonna—“ Adrien mumbled.

 

“You can thank me later, mio tesoro,” she smiled and glanced at her clock. “Now, unfortunately, I must leave. I have some other business to conduct today and be on time for my flight back home in three hours. Work never sleeps, right?” she winked and stood up. Quickly she walked up to Marinette and hugged her warmly once again.

 

“Welcome to the family,” she whispered in her ear and kissed her cheeks.

 

“You’d _better_ take care of her, Adrien,” she gave her grandson a hug as well. “I won’t be able to find you another girl like this one.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” Adrien replied and returned his grandmother’s cheek kisses. “Was nice having you over again, nonnina. I hope you’ll get safely home.”

 

“I’m sure I will,” she smiled back and turned to walk out. “I’ll see you in a month at the wedding. All questions direct to Nathalie. Goodbye.”

 

With a proud, erect stride the woman walked out of the room completely ignoring Gabriel who was actually relieved she hadn’t bothered to spite him one more time.

 

“Should I cross out the other option?” Adrien heard a distant Nathalie’s voice.

 

“Bourgeois girl?” his grandmother asked. “Yes, do so. She doesn’t come even close to Marinette and Adrien certainly fancies this one. Oh and, Nathalie, tell André that if he has a problem with my decision he should come visit me personally.”

 

*      *      *

 

"I am so sorry about my grandmother," Adrien sighed as he and Marinette exited the mansion deciding to walk rather than drive back to her apartment. Some private time and fresh air were badly needed by both of them. A conversation wouldn't hurt either. “If I’d only knew what she was planning I would’ve never let her put you through this. She is so unpredictable sometimes…” he trailed away not knowing what else to say and having not the courage yet to speak of what really mattered right now.

 

“Oh,” Marinette’s heart tightened. She knew it was too good to be true. She’d probably misunderstood the whole “I want to marry Marinette myself” thing or better yet – imagined it.

 

“Then,” she pulled the ring off her finger. “I guess you’ll want this back.”

 

“No!” Adrien cried out and blushed right away.

_Don’t ruin this now, Agreste!_

 

“That’s _not_ what I meant, Mari,” he continued in a much calmer voice. “I…” he bit his lip and knitted his brows in concentration. “May I ask you a question?”

 

“You may,” Marinette smiled. He really was so adorable when nervous.

 

“If I were to confess that I’ve been deeply and hopelessly in love with you for years and if I were to ask you to marry me without my grandmother's interference…" he paused gathering courage before returning his gaze to Marinette and continuing: "What would you say?"

 

“I’d say—” Marinette stepped closer and taking his hand in hers place a small engagement ring in his palm, effectively causing Adrien’s heart to plummet down. “I’d say—“ she continued, “—that I was also deeply and hopelessly in love with you ever since you gave me your umbrella and that I wouldn’t think twice about marrying you, Adrien,” she stood up on her tippy toes and placed a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips.

 

“However,” she added. “I’d prefer that you put this ring on me out of your own will and when _you_ are ready, not when your nonna thinks the time has come—“

 

“Will you marry me then?” Adrien interrupted. Marinette blinked and stared back. “The only reason I haven’t asked you yet was because I was afraid you’d reject me,” he confessed. “If it wasn’t for your habit of rejecting every guy I would’ve asked you a long time ago to be my girlfriend and who knows where we’d be now. So—” he pouted when Marinette wasn’t able to stop her giggles but quickly become serious again, “will you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng be my girlfriend until September 15th when we’ll have a chance to marry if _you_ shall wish that. If not, I’ll fight my Grandmother to postpone this thing until you are ready.”

 

“You can do that?” Marinette inquired curiously. From what she had observed today it seemed to her that men in this family had little say in what was going to happen if Mme. Vizzini wanted otherwise.

 

“Of course I can,” Adrien smiled nervously. “ _For you_ , anything. Hopefully, I’ll even survive.”

 

“Why?” Marinette laughed. “I thought your grandmother liked you.”

 

“She does,” Adrien responded. “But her family is very matriarchal in its essence so any female relative will automatically be above me. Do you think her request to take care of you was just that? A request? Nope,” he sighed with a playful pout on his lips. “It was a pure threat. From now on you are a step above me in my grandmother’s eyes. But you know what?” His eyes filled with love and warmth as Adrien took Marinette’s hand in his. “I am actually really happy Grandmother came to visit. Being together with you, being able to kiss and hold you close was my dream for years and because I’ve been so terrified of rejection I stalled every single time. I won’t be so stupid anymore. Marinette,” he smiled softly. “Right now I am asking you not because my grandmother decided but because _I_ want to ask - will you have mercy on my poor soul and my frail body and marry me?”

 

“Of course, I will, Adrien,” Marinette smiled. “And not because I don’t want you to get death threats from a certain Italian Mafioso relative of yours but because I’ve waited for this question for a long time now,” she paused and looked him straight into his eyes, her own shining with affection. “I love you, Adrien Agreste. You and all of your silly antics.”

 

For the second time in a day Marinette observed as the man of her dreams put an engagement ring on her finger. This time he didn’t pause in consideration and uncertainty. This time, with a look full of now unmistakable love and adoration, Adrien slid the ring on and immediately pulled Marinette closer for another definitely not a kiss between friends, but a kiss that would flare up the fire of their love stronger, a kiss that would seal their future together.

 

“I love you too, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. With all my heart and soul.”

 

*      *      *

 

Settling comfortably in a seat of the VIP lounge of the Parisian airport, Mme. Vizzini smiled to herself. She had to tolerate Gabriel again but it all was for a good cause. Her trip went without a glitch and now everything was in the place and rolling. Staring into the night Paris through the window she fell into a reverie as memories flooded her mind. Starting about 4 years ago she noticed the name of Marinette Dupain-Cheng appearing more often in Nathalie’s weekly reports on Agreste’s households. One day she asked her assistant directly about the girl and received a folder containing all her info and a small note “I think Adrien is in love with the girl” in Nathalie’s handwriting. Marcella browsed the information and concluding that Marinette was a decent candidate for her grandson’s wife happily awaited a wedding invitation. Years went by and nothing happened.

 

Being busy with her own things, the woman would’ve easily waited longer giving them a chance to do it their own way. However, one day, knowing who Adrien was and knowing that without Marcella’s permission he wouldn’t marry, her old acquaintance André Bourgeois sent her a request to approve his daughter Chloe for Adrien’s wife attaching a long list of her privileges. Rich, beautiful, smart, educated, healthy, an heiress to an empire… On paper, Marinette even with all of her achievements didn't look quite so alluring. But being a woman of integrity and believing in equality, the Italian Dona decided to check both girls out personally before acting. She flew into Paris and approached them anonymously. A little accident and no asking for help in both cases. Needless to say that while Marinette and her family took a splendid care of a complete stranger, the blond mayor’s daughter didn’t spare her a second glance. The choice was clear. All that was needed now was to seal the deal and if Adrien wasn’t going to do it, she would.

 

Feeling a bit tired Marcella looked at the watch. Almost midnight. She took out her cellphone and telling her bodyguards to stand back waited for it to ring.

 

“Hello?” she answered the call as soon as it rang. “Yes, Yes it’s me... Yes, I did. Nathalie was right, Adrien is obviously in love with the girl and to be honest, I quite like her myself… Yes, yes you'd love her too. She is an amazing little lady… He is. Very happy. And quite smitten. Can't blame him, though. She is gorgeous and kind. Smart as well… I know, cara mia, I know you’d like to see him but there is nothing we can do right now… Remember it was your decision, not mine… Yes, I know you'd better stay away if that would keep them safe… Oh, please, don’t cry, mia tesoro. It’ll change one day. I promise it will. I’ll do my best to deal with it a.s.a.p.… Of course, I will. Nathalie is there to protect them and as long as they think you are not alive they'll be safe… Yes, yes, cara mia… Marinette would make him happy. No questions about it... Yes, I did. September 15th… Of course, I will. And video and all the pictures… Of course… Yes, you right. Go rest for now. I’ll talk to next week... Non potrò mai smettere d’amarti, mia bella… Good night, Lillian.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: English is a strange and wonderful language where many words have multiple meanings and slang can change depending on your country of origin. It is my third language so while I will do my very best, there may be mistakes made along the way. If you notice any miscommunications or incorrect word usage, help a girl out.  
> Also, I do not speak, read or write Italian. I was trying to find anyone to help me but, alas, no such person was found so my trusty online translator was called upon. If you do speak the language and if there are mistakes, let me know either in comments or on Tumblr @chocoluckchipz. Thank you.
> 
> 1 - Come hanno potuto mancare di rispetto così tanto? - How could they disrespect me so much?
> 
> 2 - Perfetto, semplicemente perfetto – Perfect, simply (just) perfect
> 
> 3 - Mio/mia tesoro/ tesorinno – my darling, my treasure
> 
> 4 – Bella/Bellissima – Beauty
> 
> 5 – Cara mia/caro mio – my dear
> 
> 6 – Nonnina/ Nonna – grandmother
> 
> 7 - Mia cara ragazza – my dear girl
> 
> 8 - Mio patatino – my little potato (Italians apparently use this for their kids)
> 
> 9 - Non potrò mai smettere d’amarti - I could never stop loving you.
> 
> 10 - Capofamiglia – an Italian term for a Dona (female Godfather)
> 
> 11 - Capodecina – an Italian term for a Captain/Capo ( a person of authority in mafia)


End file.
